Vanilla Ice was just beyond kitten, not yet fully cat.  She strolled around the kitchen, stopped for a small sniff at my dish, then moved on with a lift of her nose.

I lay quietly under the table; just watching.  Missus had been so sad since Rusty, the old tom, had died.  I was willing to give this new thing a chance.  But she didn’t look promising.

She minced her way by me and I gave my attention to my bone.  When she’d moved on I turned my head so I could watch her without seeming too.

Chip and ‘Snuff, the ferrets, were playing with their rubber squeak toy.  Vanilla Ice came wandering up like she’d found something dirty on her rug, and just curled up, neat as you please, right around that toy.  Chip backed into the corner looking disconcerted, but ‘Snuff was made of sterner stuff.  He just jumped right on her fluffy little self and chomped down.

Vanilla shrieked, Missus scolded, and the ferrets went into their cage without the toy.  Poor fellows.  Never have learned that timing is everything.

I stayed under the table, meek as a lamb.

Missus was fussing over her food, as she’s wont to do.  Scrubbing it and what not.  Vanilla hopped up next to her, looking like the sweetest thing to every roll over and purr.

I just bided my time.

Vanilla butted her nose into the missus hand.  When that didn’t work, she tip-toed ’round the sink so she could try the other side, and I saw my moment.

“Woooff!”  I let out a rumble bark and lunged.

“Merowr!” Vanilla went into the full sink of water.

Missus started to scold, so I just scooped up my bone and headed for my crate.  Vanilla Ice was one sorry looking little rat, all dripping wet, when the missus dragged her out of the sink.

Yep, I’d be in my crate for some time, from the look of it.  But I didn’t mind.  The fellows and I had a better view from here, anyway.